Theater review: 'The Cradle Will Rock'

Matthew J. PalmOrlando Sentinel theater critic

Theater is about telling stories. And though we think mostly of telling stories to children, the Mad Cow Theatre's gripping, bare-bones production of The Cradle Will Rock is a bedtime tale for grown-ups.

It's the kind of tale that will keep you up at night.

Director Alan Bruun has wisely kept the focus on the musical's text, and this story of power, corruption and the plight of average citizens will leave you thinking about how we function as a society, as a community. The top-notch actors will leave you entertained.

The story, set in a generic American steel town on the night workers are voting whether to unionize, unfolds in a series of chapter-like vignettes revealing how each of the town's leaders came to fall under the thumb of the powerful steel magnate Mr. Mister.

That structure works well, as watching each mini-story gives the large cast — 14, many playing more than one role — a concentrated burst of time to have their character(s) make an impression.

Joe Reed plays Mr. Mister as a flat-out baddie, but uses a twinkle in his eye to cajole and persuade the townfolk to do his bidding. As one of the men he tramples, Alan Sincic builds layers into Harry Druggist, a seemingly blasé man at first, until the depths of his guilt become apparent.

Some of the role doubling adds to the thought process while watching. When Ame Livingston, as poverty stricken but kindhearted Moll, switches gears to play vacuous, wealthy Sister Mister, it's hard not to think about how the chance circumstances of birth affect people's entire lives.

Stephan Jones shows us an artist who has sold out his principles, and his art, for a life of comfort — before switching gears as firebrand Larry Foreman, the union organizer who won't compromise his beliefs even though it could cost him everything.

Although the play is nearly 75 years old, it's amazing (perhaps frightening) how the themes resonate today. Almost none of it sounds dated, and when something is — a druggist with a soda fountain — it never gets in the way.

The music, discordant, jangly, and often pounding with a sense of urgency, underscores much of the action but doesn't overpower the singers, critical in a production in which the words are everything.

The staging is as simple as can be: 14 wooden chairs arranged in rows on the stage, one for each actor. They stand and face each other and move across the stage and even down to the audience, as needed.

But be sure to watch the seated actors, who deepen their characterizations even when they aren't showcased: The way Janine Papin as Mrs. Mister develops a haughty smile when other characters mention "the rich" or the way Todd Allen Long and Melissa Mason, as a young working-class couple, glance lovingly at each other.

The chair conceit harkens to the original 1937 production. After being shut down with its actors forbidden to perform on stage, that show still went on, the actors rising from their seats in the audience to play their parts.

That long-ago night, detailed by the cast in a thrilling prologue to this show, went down in theater history. And the Mad Cow's crisp production only adds to The Cradle Will Rock's glorious legacy.